


I Hate Myself

by logiewankenobi



Series: Slaves, Mirrors, Knives, and Shackles [2]
Category: Big Time Rush
Genre: Cutting, Other, Self Harm, self hating
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-12-25
Updated: 2012-12-25
Packaged: 2017-11-22 08:15:41
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 443
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/607729
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/logiewankenobi/pseuds/logiewankenobi
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Everything white. Except the mirror. That has tings of bright red blood from when he punched it. He peeked between his fingers to look at it. It was there, taunting him.</p>
            </blockquote>





	I Hate Myself

James sat in the corner of the room, fingers thrumming against his thighs as he sat there. The four walls were bare and empty, except for the shattered mirror on the far side of the room. As soon as he woke up and saw it he had to smash it. There was nothing but him and his bed in the room so seeing the mirror, the one thing that now terrorized him, had freaked him out. He was stuck inside four walls and didn't want to see anything else, let alone his own face. He ran his hands over his face at the  
thought, feeling every part of it. He clawed at it a bit before he dropped his hands to his sides. He would not scar himself again. He couldn't.  
He eyed the broken mirror, the only other thing in the room. He covered his eyes quickly, muttering under his breath. He needed to get out. Get out of the room. He carefully got up and eyed the mirror shards as he headed over to the door. He tried it and only sighed when he noticed that it was locked. He was stuck. He wasn't going to be let out. He wasn't going anywhere.He was stuck inside the four walls. The four blank walls. He pulled at his hair a bit, backing upinto the corner again.He was stuck with the mirror and his own thoughts.  
Thoughts of why he was here.  
He had been locked inside the room after looking into the mirror one day and hating what he saw. All of it. Every part of it. He couldn't take it and wanted to  
scratch out his eyes, tear out his hair, get rid of everything that wasn't good enough. Every time he saw a mirror he only saw the imperfections. Being in the room had helped, but waking up to the mirror had ruined it all. He could see everything that was ruined. Imperfections. Mistakes. Everything that wasn't good enough. His hands twitched again and he quickly behind his face behind them. If he didn't look at the mirror he wouldn't have to worry. But there was nothing to look at in the room.  
Blank walls.  
Everything white.  
Except the mirror.  
That has tings of bright red blood from when he punched it.  
He peeked between his fingers to look at it.  
It was there, taunting him.  
With shards there were more parts of the mirror. Showing more of what was wrong.  
His eyes widened at the realization, that not only did he break the mirror, but he made more.  
And he was stuck inside a room with them.


End file.
